Trapped between Madonna and the Solar System
by MorganeUK
Summary: What would happen if Sherlock forgot John after the wedding? More like a 'I-don't-know-who-the-f*-you-are' / not even in the Mind Palace forgotten... Basically an alternate version of "His Last Vow"... but is there a last vow if Sherlock do not recall having made one to John & Mary? Complete, I will publish one chapter per week or more (5/13) Sorry, I can't separate paragraph :-(
1. Post-wedding cleaning

Summary: After the wedding, Sherlock is trying to put his mind at rest.

The battle is over. Sherlock removes his morning suit. Puts it back in the garment bag. Places the bag in his wardrobe. Closes the door of the wardrobe then the door of his bedroom.

Sitting in the leather chair that was in front of John's, he watches carefully around him. Why everything can look exactly the same when the world as he knows it just crumbled under his feet? The wedding decorations, invitations and other samples are still scattered around the living room. He should put that away. Put everything related to this day away. The day where he had to be the bravest version of himself. The day he gave his best friend, the love of his life, to someone else...

Lost in is thought he didn't realize he wasn't alone anymore before a soft "Sherlock" was spoken. Opening his eyes the detective looks at his brother.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock turns to the unlit fireplace wanting to avoid the scrutiny of Mycroft's gaze.

"Do I need a reason to talk to you brother dear?" The older man says. After a pause he added "The wedding was satisfactory? I heard that you caught a killer... I am now sorry that I refused the invitation" Mycroft added with a little laugh.

"I'm alright, there's no need to babysit me. As you told me when I returned, why should I expect John to just sit in his chair and wait for me in case I wasn't truly dead? I am not that selfish and I am really happy for my friend to have found love and happiness."

Mycroft looks at his little brother with eyes full of compassion and understanding. After a quick survey of the room he comments, "I can have someone get rid of all that if you want?" waving his hands towards the napkins and the other wedding stuffs.

"No it's ok, I'll talk with Mary after the honeymoon to be certain that she doesn't want to keep anything then I will throw it all away. It can stay here for 2 weeks, I don't mind. Now. Just go please. I want to be alone... Don't worry it's not a danger night."

"You know that I worry about you constantly, it's one of my few hobbies. I will send someone right away to at least store everything somewhere out of sight. Please inform John to contact me at his return."

"Yes, yes I will" the detective says already leaving for his Mind Palace, "I just need some alone time after the last few weeks and everything will be fine. I could do with a little clean-up of my Mind Palace with all of those stupid serviette videos!"

"Ok. But don't forget that I am always there for you and will always be."

"Stop being so dramatic it doesn't suit you Mycroft. Bye and say hello to the Queen." he replied absentminded while his brother left the flat to asks Anthea to clean up the apartment of everything linked to the wedding.

Once more alone, Sherlock put his hands under his chin, closes his eyes and open the door of his mind. Once more into the breach as that old Shakespeare said... Archives of most violent criminals. Keep. List of all the boroughs, streets and alleyways of London. Keep. Redbeard is definitively staying. Let's keep the door of the 2 years chasing Moriarty's gang closed for now. There. John's room. Everything happens so quickly since his return that he lazily put Mary's stuff in his blogger's room. He opens the door slowly, not certain of what was inside. John is always so present in his mind that he almost never needs to check details in his Palace. Because if Sherlock's brain is a computer, then John's details are in the RAM and not the hard drive that is his Mind Palace!

The first thing that appears to him inside the doctor room was Mary. Mary with a confident, nearly cocky smile. Like a permanent proof that she won. He quickly dismisses her in search of wedding planning stuffs but keeps seeing Mary. She's everywhere, like if she wants to keep him away from her husband. He's the master of his Mind Palace! Sherlock virtually takes Mary's hand and pushes her into oblivion not wanting any part of her in his head. But the virtual Mary is as stubborn as the real one and she takes John's arm, not wanting to let go. With a devious smile, she pushes him with her in the deep of Sherlock's _oubliette_. Putting her John safely away from Sherlock, forever trapped between Madonna and the Solar System.

Sherlock wakes from his self induced trance a few hours later with a deep feeling of uneasiness. Like if something was missing, like an unsolved problem.


	2. An unexpected (high) surprise

Summary: One month after the wedding, John and Sherlock are together for the first time, but not as John was expected!

"What a blessing to sleep without being wakened by a madman." Even if it was more thrilling, John thought silently feeling a bit guilty.

"You should go to Baker Street today, honey, I'm certain that Sherlock needs help with something!" Mary shouts from the first floor.

John smiles, thinking for the thousandth time how lucky he is and how well Mary knows him. He really found the perfect woman. He turns his head back in the pillow when someone knocks at the front door.

Putting rapidly some clothes he goes down and finds their neighbour, Kate, crying in the arms of Mary.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Isaac, her son. He's gone missing again. Didn't come home last night."

"He's the drug one, yeah?"

"Er, yeah, nicely put, John."

"Look, is it Sherlock Holmes you want? Because I've not seen him in ages." John adds with a sad face.

"About a month." Mary add.

Kate refreshingly asks, "Who's Sherlock Holmes?"

"See? That does happen." Mary says to John with a little smile.

Still crying, Kate explains "There's a – a place they all go to, him and his ... friends. They all ... do whatever they do ... shoot up, whatever you call it."

"Where is he?" John interrupts.

"It's a house. It's a dump. I mean, it's practically falling down."

"No, the address. Where, exactly?"

Later, John and Mary's car stops before the address Kate gave them, a decrepit house in a bad borough. John opens the boot to get a tire lever, in case of... whatever. Mary laughs at the view of her husband who defiantly put the lever in his jeans.

"What! There are loads of smack heads in there, and one of them might need help with a tire. If there's any trouble, just go. I'll be fine." then he walks toward the house.

"John, John, John, John!" Mary calls, "It is a tiny bit sexy."

"Yeah, I know."

Once inside, the place is even more totally waste... the paint is peeling from the wall, rubbish everywhere. After a little "discussion" with the young man in charge of the security of the den, John walks with a spring back in his legs. It's not that being a GP is not enough, but it's good to go back to a more physical approach of conflict resolution, the doctor verbalizes to himself. I should really contact Sherlock and go on a case, or two, or three, with him! Before the baby arrives.

Upstairs he finds a big room, far too many people in it (God, most of them are only kids!) and cautiously calls out "Isaac? Isaac Whitney?" At the end of the room he finally finds the young man.

"Isaac?... Hello, mate. Sit up for me? Sit up." He helps him and checks quickly for his vital signs. The boy's is high as a kite, but otherwise unharmed.

"Doctor Watson?" Isaac voice is ragged and sleepy. "Where am I?"

"The arse-end of the universe with the scum of the Earth. Look at me."

"Have you come for me?"

"D'you think I know a lot of people here?" Isaac tries to laugh but he's too far gone.

"Hey, all right?" The doctor asks before helping the junkie to rise to leave that dam place. A familiar face caught his eyes and his heart falls before the anger replaces any other emotions. "What the hell... Sherlock!"

A few minutes later, Isaac walks outside to reach Mary who is waiting in the car.

"Hello, Isaac."

"Mrs. Watson, can I – can I get in, please?"

"Yes, of course, get in. Where's John?"

"They're having a fight."

"Who is?"

At that moment, the door of the fire escape is open furiously by John's foot, while he maintains a screaming detective by his (now tied) arms.

"For God's sakes, let me go. You've got no idea of the trouble you're going to be if you don't release me at once!" Sherlock was yelling. God the bastard really knows how to knots a rope, was he in the Navy? No... not the Navy. The army. Army doctor most certainly. Not important right now, focus Sherlock!

"A month – that's all it took. One. Sherlock Holmes in a drug den! How's that going to look?"

"I'm working. I'm undercover. You're blowing everything you idiot. Ouch! Stop pulling my arms like that you nutter! Does Mycroft pay you to ruin everything? If so tell my brother to go fu..."

Mary interrupts before any more profanity is unleashed. "In. Both of you, quickly."

"I'm not going anywhere with a crazy ex-soldier and a woman in pajama! What is it, your life isn't interesting enough; you've got to butt into things you can't understand? LET ME GO! I won't let you ruin everything by kidnapping me!"

"You know exactly where we are going. Don't be so paranoid!" He pushes Sherlock in the back seat of the car, but the tall man resists with all of his strength, even with the disadvantage of having both hands ties together. The doctor, starting to become more and more impatient toward his friend, lets go a "God damn it Sherlock, even if I have to knock you out, YOU WILL GO TO BART'S!"

"Bart's...?" Better not to argue with a mad man... armed with a tire lever. This is ridiculous, please please do not let Lestrade hear about this or the whole NSY will snicker at me for months! "Why do you want to go to Bart's?"

"I'm calling Molly. Because you, Sherlock Holmes, need to pee in a jar."

"Wait... You are calling Molly?" Who's this man and how does he know the personal phone number of Molly Hooper?

John took the opportunity of the detective's shock to unceremoniously push him on the seat and promptly buckle the lanky git into the car.


	3. Aren't you too old to be in a fan club?

Summary: Whatttt? Sherlock with a girlfriend

At the back of the car, Sherlock is fuming! How can his brother - it's got to be Mycroft! - had the nerve to interfere in his life like this! _I'm not a child and anyway if he wanted to save me so badly he could have arrived sooner in Serbia. Oh God, I stink... The day can't possibly get any worse!_

In the front of the car, John and Mary were discussing the situation as discretely as possible.

"One month, Mary, it took only one month for him to go back to... GOD I'm furious, I can't believe it, what a waste. I should have seen it coming and..."

"It's not your fault, he's a grown man. You can be responsible for all his actions... Maybe it's not what you're thinking. He talked about what? Undercover work? Maybe he's not that high, wait for Molly before making assumptions."

John looks at Mary with a "are you serious?" expression. _He's a bloody doctor and she's a nurse. Sherlock was high as a fucking kite, no doubt about it._ "Yeah, let's wait for Molly," he says with an unconvinced tone.

"Could you please stop talking about me as if I was deaf?" Sherlock shouts from the backseat, still energetically trying to untie his arms to be able to remove the security belt and get out of this damn car. "Hey, you idiot! Where's my phone? Give it to me! I don't know why you are in charge, soldier usually only good for following orders. I certainly hope for you, madam, that you're not planning to have a baby with him because..." At these words, John turns around and tries to knock some sense into Sherlock but wasn't able to touch him because the bastard had scooted as far from John as possible. "Don't act like you can do anything that you want with ME! I'm fully here you know!" the detective shouts.

 _Yeah, we know... that's the problem._ John replies silently disgusted by his friend's attitude but still trying to act like a doctor should in front of an intoxicated patient. _It's not personal, it's not personal, it's not persona_ l he repeats to himself as a mantra...

They leave Isaac to his mom and go directly to the hospital after, the sooner this ridiculous situation is over the better. 

In the lab, Molly is finishing the analysis on Sherlock's sample. Only the soothing but 'business as usual' presence of Molly makes it possible for Sherlock to calm down enough to cooperate. _Asking ME to get out of the washroom but being ok with Molly! I can't believe it! I'm his bloody doctor._ John mutters to himself. _Or at least, I was... He trusts her far more than me. It's true that MOLLY was part of the big scheme while I was pushed away like a liability._

Sherlock is standing as far away as possible from John and Mary and mumbling "The man refuses to give back my phone, it's inconceivable! Why are they still there, can't they just go away? This is none of their business... Molly, could I use your phone?" the last words are spoken louder but still only for the woman's benefit. She puts her phone away in her lab coat and looks at John.

"Well? Is he clean?" John asks, certain of the result anyway but still hoping for a miracle. _I never so wanted to be wrong._

"Clean?" Molly explodes as she walks to stand in front of Sherlock.

To the surprise of everyone, she slaps the tall man hard. A few times. The man makes a face but says nothing. "How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with? And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry."

"Sorry your engagement's over – though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring. But I don't think Lestrade or will feel betrayed if they learn about this. They both have seen me in far worse shape and will know that this is a controlled usage. And you... you should know better... I was undercover for God sakes!"

"Stop it. Just stop it. You know we all care about you so much!" Molly insists, nearly crying.

John pulled Sherlock aside to try to put some sense into the man. "If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again, you could have called someone. You could have talked to me." _Even if you don't consider me on your select list of friends apparently..._

The tall man looks at him with a hint of distaste in the eyes. "Please do relax. This is all for a case. Give me back my phone and tell Mycroft to back off, I don't need a babysitter or a bodyguard."

"All that for a case?" he gives the phone back to Sherlock, there's no point keeping it now, "What kind of case would need you doing this?"

"You won't understand, it's far from your league. If you want to play mind games I might as well ask you why you've started cycling to your unsatisfactory workplace."

"No. We're not playing this game," John says, walking away and shaking his head at the nerve of Sherlock.

"Quite recently, I'd say. You're very determined about it."

"Not. Interested."

Looking at his phone, Sherlock exclaims. "Ah! Finally! Oh, excellent news – the best. There's every chance that my drug habit might hit the newspapers. The game is on." He heads for the door with a wave of the hand and a "See you later Molly!". As if the others two weren't in the laboratory. "He's not going anywhere alone in this condition. Not if I can stop him!" John kisses his wife rapidly and starts running after the madman after a reassuring glance to Molly. 

In the taxi, Sherlock focuses solely on his phone, taping rapidly. At a light, he raises his head and looks to his right, and realizes with astonishment that the strange man that keeps interfering is beside him.

"Hang on – what are you doing there. And weren't there other people? A woman?"

"I'm taking you home. We did discuss it." In fact, John simply followed a distracted Sherlock in his taxi without saying anything.

"I must have filtered. I have to filter out a lot of witless babble. I've got Mrs. Hudson, my landlady, on semi-permanent mute."

Not stating the fact that he knows who Mrs Hudson is, John studies his former flatmate as discreetly as possible. _What's wrong with him? Drugs may change how the mind thinks, cause paranoia... But how come he reacts like this only to Mary and me... What have we done? What went wrong since the wedding? The last time we talked was... at the reception. Have I really not talk to him in a month? My best friend?_ Culpability was slowly replacing anger. _What can be done now, not much? It's no use to talk to him as long as he's high anyway._

The car stops in front of 221b, "What is my brother doing here?" the detective explodes getting out of the cab.

"So I'll just pay, then, shall I?"

"Put it on your expense account, I'm certain the government won't fuss for 10 pounds."

Before John can scream a "What's your bloody problem Sherlock!" the door opens to reveal Mycroft. The man, who was sitting on the stairs, puts a slight smile on his face before he says "Well, then, Sherlock. Back on the sauce?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I phoned him. 'Course I bloody phoned him." John explains.

"Of course, part of the job. How does it feels to be a sniffing dog, probably wasn't your aspiration when you left Afghanistan!"

Mycroft interrupts, not liking the direction of the conversation. _What's wrong with his brother?_ "'Course he bloody phones me. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?"

"We?" Sherlock responds before then hears voices upstairs. _That voice... Anderson!_

"Mr. Holmes?" Anderson asked while opening and closing all the cupboards in the kitchen.

"For God's sake! Get out of my kitchen!" Sherlock shouts before throwing himself into his chair to sulk.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. It's for your own good. Hello Doctor Watson." he replies with an apologetic gesture.

Mycroft follows his brother into the apartment. "Some members of your little fan club. Do be polite. They're entirely trustworthy and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat. You're a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can't afford a drug habit."

Sherlock jumps from his chair to scrutinize John who is talking with Anderson. "Is this what you are finally, a groupie? Aren't you too old to be a member of a fan club?" Looking to his brother he adds "I do not have a drug habit! Get out!"

The doctor's attention is focused on his missing chair in the lounge, so he does not hear the detective's outburst. Turning toward Sherlock, he asks "Hey, why only one chair? The place is big enough for two..."

"It was not useful and blocking my view to the kitchen." Sherlock snarls.

Hurt by the comment, John muttered to Mycroft "Well, it's good to be missed!"

"Anderson, what have you found so far? Clearly nothing. But... Your bedroom door is shut."

Sherlock let go a profound sigh, _no chance he misses that!_

"You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?"

He walks to the bedroom and puts his hand on the knob waiting for a reaction from Sherlock. "Okay, stop! Just stop. Point made."

John stares at his friend "Jesus, Sherlock!"

"Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma. Won't be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line-dancing."

"This is not what you think. This is for a case."

"What case could possibly justify this?" Mycroft asks.

"Magnussen. Charles Augustus Magnussen." 

Looking to Anderson and the woman that was with him with a dark gaze, Mycroft declares, "That name you think you may have just heard – you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you – on behalf of the British security services – that materials will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don't reply – just look frightened and scuttle."

They both leave as quickly as possible and close the door of the flat.

Sherlock opens the door and scream in the stairway "Anderson! You've forgotten someone." motioning his hand to John who (asking help to all the deity he can think of) merely rolls his eyes at Sherlock's inconsiderate words. _God, I need a pint!_

Mycroft looking strangely to his brother moves where John is standing and slowly adds, "I hope I won't have to threaten you as well."

"Well, I think we'd both find that embarrassing." John chuckles.

Sherlock lets go a little laugh, looking at the ex-army-doctor with a new appreciation.

"Magnussen is not your business, brother"

"Oh, you mean he's yours, Mycroft."

"You may consider him under my protection. If you go against Magnussen, then you will find yourself going against me."

"Okay. I'll let you know if I notice." He walks back to the door "Hum, what was I going to say? Oh, yeah. Bye-bye."

He opens the door widely for Mycroft. Before he leaves, the older Holmes faces Sherlock one more time to profess a menacing "Unwise, brother mine."

Not realizing the degree of exasperation of his brother, Mycroft found himself slammed on the wall with one of his arm twist forcefully under his back.

"Brother mine; don't appall me when I'm high."

John runs to the brothers quickly. "Mycroft, don't say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and right now I am slightly worried that he might. Don't speak. Just leave."

The minor government official lefts the two men together and nearly run down the stairs.

"Magnussen?" John asks hoping that being alone with the detective may help to sort out all this awkwardness.

"You're still there? You'll never give up aren't you?" or maybe not, John sighs internally.

"I'm meeting him in three hours. I need a bath. Just leave or I will have to call NYS on you for trespass and harassment." Sherlock declares to the short blond man who remains exactly where he was without any movement toward the exit.

"It's for a case, you said? What sort of case?"

Frowning in exasperation, but curiously and strangely happy to have someone to talk too, Sherlock affirms with an irritated voice "Too big and dangerous for any sane individual to get involved in."

"You trying to put me off?

The detective stops in front of the bathroom and turns to check the man who has been intruding on his life since the morning. _Ex-army, sergeant or captain. Doctor. Husband. Choleric. Not as idiotic as the others. Courageous. Reckless. Loves the danger. Sassy. Not afraid of Mycroft whatever the connection is between them. Loyal..._

"God, no. Trying to recruit you." the detective says before closing the door behind him with a crooked smile.

John lets go of a breath he doesn't realize he was keeping and walks around the flat, waiting for Sherlock. A case. _A case is good; if something can put everything right it is a case!_

The door of the bedroom opens quietly, turning on his feet John stares with incredulity as Janine walks out of the detective's private room. Janine. Mary's friend. What the bloody hell, this day will never end!

"Oh, John, hi." she laughs; trying to pull down a bit the shirt ( _Sherlock's!_ ) she was wearing. "How are you?"

"Janine?"

"Sorry. Not dressed. Has everybody gone? I heard shouting."

"Yes, they're gone." The wonder still tainted John's voice.

"God, look at the time. I'll be late. Sounded like an argument. Was it Mike? They're always fighting. Oh, could you be a love and put some coffee on?"

"... Sure, right, yeah."

"Thanks." She lefts for the bedroom but add quickly "Ooh, how's Mary? How's married life?"

"She's fine. We're both fine, yeah." he walks to the kitchen looking for the coffee. _Everything can't be in the wrong place, it's only been a month for God sakes since the last time I was here!_

"Oh, it's over there now. Where's Sherl?"

John can't keep inside an incredulous "Sherl!" before explaining to Janine that the man was having a bath. _What the hell, a woman, Janine! in the flat... It can't be... He must ask Mary if Janine told her something about this during their "girly talks"._

His mind returns to the present time when he hears Janine knocks on the door and GOING INSIDE THE BLOODY BATHROOM WHILE SHERLOCK WAS IN THE BATH!

"Morning! Room for a little one?!" after that, John can only hear the detective's deep laughs and Janine's giggles.

 _Oooooh! Did I fall into a Twilight Zone episode!_

"What the hell is going on!" John nearly shouts for the hundred times in the last few hours.


	4. Pressure point: Watson (to be clarify)

Summary: Will the king of blackmail see through John and Sherlock?

John is still in a bit of a shock when Sherlock finally gets out of his bedroom, fully clothed in his usual 'I'm on my way to a GQ bloody photo-shoot'.

After a quick look in the direction of the doctor, why does that man smile like a confuse fool?, he says, "So – it's just a guess but you've probably got some questions."

"Yeaaaah, one or two, pretty much."

"Naturally."

Janine walks out of the bathroom, into the bedroom and exchanges a smile with Sherlock.

"You have a girlfriend?" First thing first.

"Yes, I have." You have a wife why shouldn't I have a girlfriend? John put a bigger smile on his face. Sherlock usually doesn't second guess his decisions, but he almost regrets asking the man to tag along. What was is name? John? I should really ask for his full name.

"Now, Magnussen. Magnussen is like a shark – it's the only way I can describe him. Have you ever been to the shark tank at the London Aquarium, John (yes! got it right. It's John!) – stood up close to the glass? Those floating flat faces, those dead eyes ... That's what he is. I've dealt with murderers, psychopaths, terrorists, serial killers. None of them can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus Magnussen."

"Yes, you have."

"Sorry, what?"

"You have a girlfriend." John adds, still completely bemused.

"What? Yes! Yes, I'm going out with Janine. I thought that was fairly obvious."

"Yes. Well ... yes. But I mean you, you, you ... are in a relationship? You and Janine?"

"Yes, I am. Me and Janine." Sherlock replies, more and more irritated.

"Care to elaborate?" John continues, still too amazed to realize the change in his friend's composure.

"Why is it so curious? Who are you to comment on my private life?"

John pauses and looks at his friend. It's kind of true that with all the women that he dates before The Fall, then Mary... I am in no position to ask questions. Maybe Sherlock was shy and this is why he hadn't brought any women to the flat when I was there? But... "I'm married to my work" and "Not my area". And why Janine among every other woman OR man available?

"It's just that... Janine? I'm surprised that Mary didn't talk to me about this as she is her friend that's all."

Ooooh, he knows Janine, this is why he's so curious and probably anxious. He took me from a drug den only a few hours ago, it's surely not a good sign for the boyfriend of a friend. Sherlock took a deep breath before adding.

"Well, we're in a good place. Don't worry, I know in your point of view, especially as a doctor, I'm not the perfect companion for her but I won't let anything bad happen to Janine. Trust me. And as for the relationship, it's, um ... very affirming."

"You got that from a book... It's been what? A few weeks?"

"Yes, I met her in a coffee place near her office. She cleverly found that the cashier was stealing money from the customers, 50p at the time, and I decided on the spur of the moment, romantic gesture to ask her to sit with me for a tea and pastries. She said that I was rude, that we've met before, she was quite cross that I didn't recall anything, in fact, she even tried to show me pictures! But quickly put that behind her as one of my 'funny yet troubling quirks' as she said and stopped nagging about it. We've been together since."

The nerve of the man, he danced and talked with her at the wedding! But it's not his business, it's her call if she chooses to go out with the git anyway. John put a smile on his face as Janine comes back into the room ready to go to work.

"Okay, you two bad boys, behave yourselves." Janine says as she sits on Sherlock's lap. "And you, Sherl, you're goin' to have to tell me where you were last night."

"Working."

"Working. Of course. I'm the only one who really knows what you're like, remember?"

"Don't you go letting on." the man softly replies in her ear before caressing her face.

"I might just, actually." the young woman replies before turning her face toward John. "I haven't told Mary about this. I kind of wanted to surprise her."

"Yeah, you probably will."

"But we should have you two over for dinner really soon! My place, though – not the scuzz-dump!" then she punches her boyfriend on the shoulder with a laugh.

"Great, yeah! Dinner! Yeah." John was too dumbstruck to create a complete sentence!

She gets up and walks to the door, Sherlock follows. "Have a lovely day. Call me later."

Janine struck his jacket with a knowing glaze and tease "I might do. I might call you – unless I meet someone prettier..." and they kiss.

John turns away as quickly as possible, not knowing where to look. Oh, a window. Wonderful. And this is such a nice wallpaper, I should ask to Ms. Hudson where she found it maybe I can put the same in my office. Without the bullet holes.

After a softly muttered, "Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes." Janine leaves the flat.

Sherlock's demeanor changes immediately as soon as the door closes. The lover leaves to give room to the sharp detective.

"You know Magnussen as a newspaper owner, but he's so much more than that. He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond. He is the Napoleon of blackmail ..."

He walks to his laptop to shows to John a photograph of Magnussen's home as well as a blueprint of the building.

"... and he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge. Its name is Appledore."

"Dinner."

"Sorry, what, dinner?"

"Me and Mary and you and Janine. Dinner ... with ... wine and ... sitting." John adds still unable to shake the amazement from his voice.

"Seriously? I've just told you that the Western world is run from this house ... and you want to talk about a dinner that will NEVER happen." What is HIS problem?

"Fine, talk about the house."

After an exasperated look, Sherlock continues. "It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world the Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals – and none of it is on a computer. He's smart – computers can be hacked. It's all on hard copy in vaults underneath that house; and as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you've ever met is a fantasy."

His speech is interrupted by Mrs. Hudson's "Ooh-ooh! Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?"

"It's in the fridge. It kept ringing."

"Oh, that's not a fault, Sherlock!" That boy will never change, she thought fondly but at least now John is with him, the last month was not really good with Sherlock acting like the wedding never happened and that John wasn't a part of his life anymore. I know I said that 'Wedding changes everything!' but I didn't realize that much. So sad, they would have been a nice couple.

"Who is it?"

Mrs. Hudson's daydreaming stops and she goes downstairs to open the door.

"Mr. Holmes said you can go right up." her voice was nervous as if she was feeling insecure.

Two men, clearly bodyguards, walk into the apartment, leading the way to Charles Augustus Magnussen.

Stopping near Sherlock, one of the bodyguards waits for Sherlock's authorization to check if he had any arms on him. "Oh, go ahead," Sherlock says as if it was a regular occurrence in his life.

Another one looks at John "Sir?"

"Oh, he's fine." the detective replies for John. Arms? Come on... a scalpel and a stethoscope maybe!

"Er, I ... right. I should probably tell you ..." the doctor explains... right before the goon found a flick-knife and the tire lever.

Sherlock looks confused at the sight of John 'arsenal'. A tire lever, really?

"I can vouch for this man. He's a doctor. You know who I am, you probably checked beforehand and know who he is." Which is better than me, Sherlock adds to himself. "Don't you, Mr. Magnussen? I understood we were meeting at your office."

Magnussen looks around the living room and says, "This is my office. Well, it is now."

He sits on the sofa and scrutinizes John for a moment while a list of details passes through his eyes.

John Hamish Watson. Afghanistan veteran (see file). GP (see file) Porn preference: bisexual / normal Finances: 10% debt (see file) Pressure point: Harry Watson (sister) alcoholic, Mary Morstan (wife), Sherlock Holmes (best friend, man of honour at the wedding)

"Mr. Magnussen, I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband's letters."

Magnussen appears unconcerned by the detective's request. He looks at the newspaper on the coffee table, not paying any attention to Sherlock whatsoever.

"Some time ago you ... put pressure on her concerning those letters. She would like those letters back."

The businessman finally fixes his attention on the tall man in front of him and a list of facts appears, floating in front of his eyes.

Sherlock Holmes: consulting detective - Porn preference: unknown - Finances: unknown - Brother: Mycroft Holmes MI6 (see file) - Girlfriend: Janine Hawkins (just a front / possible liability / must keep an eyes on her at the office / friend of R.) - Officially deceased: 2011-2013 - Pressure point: Irene Adler (admiration/desire?), Jim Moriarty (admiration/enemy/desire?), Redbeard (to be clarified), Hounds of the Baskerville (fear), Opium (ex-addict), John Watson (status to be clarified)

"Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind ..." He stops talking, Magnussen clearly not listening.

"Sorry, I-I was reading. There's rather a lot about you." he adds with a sinister smile.

Sherlock frowns, not understanding what the man is doing.

"Redbeard. Hum... Interesting."

The detective blinks rapidly before being able to regain his composure. Why does Magnussen talk about Redbeard? What kind of sick game is this?

"Sorry. You were probably talking?"

"I ... I was trying to explain that I've been asked to act on behalf of ..."

But once more Magnussen stops listening to asks to one of the security men. "Bathroom?"

"Along from the kitchen, sir."

"Okay."

Sherlock, not wanting the man to get the upper hand continues. "I've been asked to negotiate the return of those letters... I'm aware you do not make copies of sensitive documents ..."

"The bathroom, is it like the rest of the flat?" Magnussen interrupts again, turning to one of his men.

"Yes, sir."

With a sigh, he states, "Maybe not, then."

"Am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock was still trying to accomplish his mission. John was fascinated by his patience. God, I'm not the one who talks and I am 2 seconds away from punching the bastard in the face to erase that cold smile.

"Mr. Magnussen, am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" his friend says louder.

"Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her. She's English, with a spine. The best thing about the English ... You're so domesticated. All standing around, apologizing... keeping your little heads down."

He then proceeds to the fireplace where one of his guards promptly removes the screen and he urinates into it!

"You can do what you like here. No one's ever going to stop you. A nation of herbivores. I've interests all over the world but, er, everything starts in England. If it works here... I'll try it in a real country."

After he wipes his hands, he finally answers Sherlock. "Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need these letters, so I'm keeping them. Goodbye."

He walks to the door and turns one last time toward John and Sherlock. He puts his hand in his pocket and laughs as he pulls out some letters. "Anyway, they're funny." Then he steps outside, one of the guards closing the door after them.

John was the first to react with a furious, "Jesus!"

"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?"

"Wh... There was a moment that kind of stuck in the mind, yeah." he replies with a gesture in the direction of the fireplace even if Sherlock was not looking at him. Kind of hard to miss!

"Exactly – when he showed us the letters!" he grins.

"... Okay."

"So he's brought the letters to London – so no matter what he says, he's ready to make a deal. Now, Magnussen only makes a deal once he's established a person's weaknesses – the 'pressure point,' he calls it. So, clearly he believes I'm a drug addict and no serious threat. I've been working exclusively on this for the last month. My email account is bursting but I can't take on other cases as long as this is not finished. This is why I was in the drug den, so it was time well spent! And, of course, because he's in town tonight, the letters will be in his safe in his London office while he's out to dinner with the Marketing Group of Great Britain from seven 'til ten."

"How-how do you know his schedule?"

"Because I do. Right – If you still want to be a part of this I'll see you tonight. I've got some shopping to do."

"What's tonight?"

"I'll text instructions. Give me your phone number."

God give me patience! "I didn't change it, still the same old number."

"Hum? I don't have the time to check, I can find it if you want but it would be quicker if you simply give it to me." I could ask Janine but seriously, what was the man's problem?

"And don't bring a knife or a tire lever. Probably best not to do any arm-spraining, Billy told me how you injured him when we left the den, but we'll see how the night goes." Sherlock went down the stairs and called a taxi.

"You're just assuming I'm coming along?"

"I still don't know why you were there this morning and why you're thinking you ought to check on me, but you definitively need more action in your life and you're not as dimwitted as most of NSY. Time for you to get out of the house and do more exercise, the cycling isn't doing it. See you later!" he adds with a smile.

He opens the cab door and gets in, leaving a mystified John on the pavement.

A few seconds later, Sherlock's phone buzzes with a text. "Here you go, you inconsiderate git, is that enough to get my number back in your directory? Text me later if you **really** want me around."

"I can't believe the guts of the man and where does he found my number?" The detective said out loud in the taxi. Looking at his phone, he clicks to save the number in his directory only to realize that it is already there under the name 'John'. He can't find any conversation as he regularly wipes the memory of is phone, clearing texts and emails as soon as possible. Curious, he closes his eyes for a quick visit to his Mind Palace but found nothing.

His focus went back to Magnussen and the task ahead.


	5. They're always something!

Summary: You all know what happened in Magnussen office... not too graphic but be aware that it can be triggering to some readers.

.

Later that night, John follows Sherlock instructions and walks to the lobby of CAM Global News HQ. Looking at his watch, he waits for his friend a minute or two before he appears beside him.

"Magnussen's office is on the top floor, just below his private flat but there are fourteen levels of security between us and him, two of which aren't even legal in this country. Want to know how we're going to break in?"

"Is that what we're doing?"

"Of course it's what we're doing. You still can change your mind if you're too domesticated to do so." the detective replies before he turns and walks towards the gate.

 _Oh no, you're not leaving me behind this time!_ John protests under his breath, and he runs after the detective. The first security check went smoothly and they arrive at a white corridor.

"That is the path to Magnussen's private lift. It goes straight to his penthouse and office. Only he uses it and only his key card calls the lift. Anyone else even tries, security is automatically informed." Sherlock shows John a magnetic card. "Standard key card for the building. Nicked it yesterday. Only gets us as far as the canteen." He stops John a few feet away from the lift door.

"If I was to use this card on that lift now, what happens?" the detective asks while the scenario rushes into his mind.

"Er, the alarms would go off and you'd be dragged away by security." And the madness will end?

"Exactly."

"You get taken to a small room somewhere and your head kicked in." John nearly smiles at the image.

"But if I do this," he presses the card to the back of his phone, "If you press a key card against your mobile phone for long enough, it corrupts the magnetic strip. The card stops working. It's a common problem – never put your key card with your phone... What happens if I use the card now?"

"It still doesn't work. It's not just a lock, you can't just pass thru like that!"

"But it doesn't read as the wrong card now. It registers as corrupted. But if it's corrupted, how do they know it's not Magnussen? Would they risk dragging him off?"

"Probably not..." John sighs.

"So what do they do? What do they have to do?"

"Check if it's him or not." _Oh my God, are we really doing this?_

"There's a camera at eye height to the right of the door. A live picture of the card user is relayed directly to Magnussen's personal staff in his office – the only people trusted to make a positive ID at this hour, almost certainly his PA."

"So how's that help us?" the doctor asks confused by the workflow of Sherlock plan.

Sherlock lets go a big nearly real smile. "Human error. I've been shopping." He walks to the lift, while John follows anxiously.

"Here we go, then." He then takes the corrupted card and presses it on the reader.

"You realize you don't exactly look like Magnussen." John observes, away from the camera.

"Which, in this case, is a considerable advantage. I'm definitively prettier" he jests to the man beside him. _Now it is the time to win an Oscar!_

Janine appears on the screen beside the lift, looking with amazement at Sherlock.

"Sherlock, you complete loon! What are you doing?!"

John starts to talk "Hang on – was that ...? That ...!" but his friend pushes him away from the prying camera.

"Hi, Janine." he says softly and sensuously, "Go on, let me in."

"I can't! You know I can't. Don't be silly."

"Don't make me do it out here. Not in front of everyone."

"Do what in front of everyone?"

John at that moment was losing it. _What the hell! How could Sherlock act like that… It was clear now! Janine was only a key to get inside Magnussen's office!_ He looks back at the detective with disgust. O _h, this is not good, we are_ soooooo _talking about this later!_ Then the bastard takes a small red box and shows a ring to Janine. A bloody big engagement ring!

Without surprise... The door of the lift magically opens.

"You see? As long as there are people, there's always a weak spot." Sherlock explains while walking into the lift. "I know it can be confusing, but humans are so predictable. When you know what they really want it's easy to manipulate them."

"That was Janine."

"Yes, of course, it was Janine. She's Magnussen's PA. That's the whole point." _Why don't people just listen?_ "I need her, she was happy to go out with a 'celebrity', it's a win-win situation. It's like you, you jump onto the occasion to add more action to your boring life and I need someone with me because two men walking around is less conspicuous than a solitary one. Win-win."

John's barely contained anger rises to the surface once more. "So, to be clear, you just got engaged to break into an office? And you used me as an 'extra' only and you don't really need my help?" The nerve of the man! The number of times I saved his sorry ass!

"In short, yeah. I was going to ask one of my homeless network, but you did just fine. For Janine, a stroke of luck that she wasn't married. It was pretty easy to cross paths with her as soon as I realize she went to that coffee shop each day for lunch."

"Je-Jesus! It's JANINE! You cut into pieces the heart of my wife's best friend. For a bloody case! Sherlock, she... she loves you."

"Yes," he replies without any emotion. "like I said – human error."

"What are you going to do?" _How is this man, this machine, my friend!_ The "used to be my best friend" is starting to look more appealing!

"Well, not actually marry her, obviously. There's only so far you can go."

"So what will you tell her?"

With a crooked smile, Sherlock says "Well, I'll tell her that our entire relationship was a ruse to break into her boss' office. I imagine she'll want to stop seeing me at that point ... but you're the expert on women, being married and all."

.

As the lift stops and the doors open, Sherlock brings back the fake happy smile and looks around for Janine.

"So where did she go? It's a bit rude. I just proposed to her."

That's rich coming from the rudest asshole... but John thoughts were interrupted when he sees an unconscious Janine on the floor.

"Sherlock, quickly!"

"Did she faint? Do they really do that?" he says with an incredulous smirk.

"No, there's blood. It's a blow to the head. She's breathing. Janine?"

"Be a doctor and stay with her. I'll look around."

"Hey. They must still be here. The criminals who attacked her." John whispers. "We should call the police." he reaches for his phone before Sherlock point out "During our own burglary?! You're really not a natural at this, are you?... No, wait, shh! What's that scent.. I know what it is..."

In Sherlock's mind, the perfumes flow one after the other. _Versace, No 5, no, no, and not Janine... Prada, Dior,_ ahhh _!_

"Clair-de-la-lune! Why do I know it?"

"It's pretty popular you know, even Mary wears it."

"No, not Mary. Somebody else. I know someone else. Anyway, your wife was still in pajamas this morning and hadn't the time to do her morning cosmetic routine... Did you hear that? Someone is upstairs!"

John, seeing the focus in Sherlock's eyes, tries to get his attention while taking care of a still unconscious Janine. "Sherlock! SHERLOCK! You are not going upstairs alone!" the doctor says as convincingly and quietly as possible. _The man is impossible, I won't let him get killed for real this time! And as soon as I can take a few minutes to think I should really decide if I care or not. Why did I get out of bed this morning?_ He turns his attention back to the woman on the floor, trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

.

Sherlock was now in what was Magnussen's flat. Voices were coming out from a room... Magnussen!

"What-what-what would your husband think, eh? He ... your lovely husband, upright, honourable ..."

From a gap in the door, Sherlock was able to see the businessman on his knees but not who's menacing him.

"He's... so English. What-what would he say to you now?"

Changing his perspective, the detective was able to have a look on the aggressor. Someone dressed all in black and wearing black gloves. A gun is pointing at Magnussen. The unknown assailant, a woman probably, cocks the gun and puts it near the man head.

"Nej, nej!" Magnussen cries. "You're-you're doing this to protect him from the truth ... but is this protection he would want?"

Sherlock takes the opportunity to open the door slowly and is able to penetrate into the room unseen before speaking to the bewilderment of Magnussen and the now known assailant. _Claire-de-la-lune, of course!_ He remembers the scent now from their previous meeting when he first took the case.

"Additionally, if you're going to commit murder, you might consider changing your perfume Lady Smallwood."

"Sorry. Who?" A confused Magnussen asks. "That's ... not ... Lady Smallwood, Mr. Holmes."

The black silhouette finally turns to looks at Sherlock, now aiming the gun at him. The doctor's wife... Mary? What?

A succession of images passes through his mind, screenshots of the short meeting with the woman this morning.

 _Confident. Likes the danger. Not worried when her husband put two junkies in the back of the family car. The look of desire towards John when he roughly manhandles him. The little smile when Molly confirmed that he was high and slaps him thoroughly. And lies, lies, lies… everywhere._

"Is John with you?"

"He's, um ..." Sherlock wasn't able to talk. _What the hell is happening?_

"Is John here?" Mary interrupted him forcibly.

"He-he's downstairs."

Magnussen intervenes "So, what do you do now? Kill us both?"

Mary looks back at the man, still keeping her gun on the detective, the doubt rising. _What should I do? This is too easy, I can kill two birds with one stone! But John will be devastated… and the git, I kind of like him, such a waste of a brilliant mind if he dies..._

"Mary, whatever he's got on you, let me help." It is the only possible theory. Magnussen must have something on Mary and maybe John. It can't be a coincidence, the universe is rarely so lazy... The friendship with Janine, all this is a plan to get to Magnussen!

He moves towards her.

"Oh, Sherlock, if you take one more step I swear I will kill you." her voice had a hint of exasperation. _Come on Sherlock, don't makes me kill you! It is what HE wanted but everyone is out now so I can forget that last order… but you've got to work with me… please…_! She silently begged.

"No, I think I know you, the real you. You're a liar but you do love your husband, probably more then he did. I know you, you are a caretaker, a nurse, a doctor's wife, you won't kill me." the last words were spoken soothingly in a whisper.

He takes a step in her direction and... she pulls the trigger, sending a bullet directly into Sherlock's torso.

Magnussen pulls himself up, trying to leave the room, but Mary is quicker and she knocks him out with the handle of the gun. Sherlock, still upright but quickly bleeding to death, looks at the bullet hole then to the woman with horror. _How can I have misjudged her so completely? There's always something…_

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. Truly am." The woman tearfully says.

"Mary... Why?" Sherlock says before falling into oblivion.


End file.
